“Did you want something, Lionel?” she asked.
His eyes gleamed, and sherefusedto think of what he might want.
Jordan stood abruptly and cleared his throat, forcing Lionel’s attention his way. “Lionel, I was wondering if you could take a look at this.”
Jordan gestured to his computer monitor, then winked at EJ as Lionel moved to his side, thus allowing EJ a moment to escape.
Her fingers clenched as she grabbed her plastic bowl of salad and hurried to the kitchenette, where she scooped up the remains of her salad and finished her lunch with only the fridge keeping her company. Not how she’d planned her midday break.
She didn’t like feeling like she was prisoner to Lionel’s fancies. And while she appreciated Jordan’s protectiveness, neither did she enjoy feeling like a distressed damsel needing a man to rescue her. And lately, it seemed like Jordan had been doing a lot more rescuing. Was that because he thought she was incompetent, or something else?
“You’re a strong, independent woman,” she muttered to herself. “You’ve worked hard. You’re successful. You don’t need a man to rescue you.” Especially not her childhood friend.
She stabbed at the last remaining crouton with her bamboo fork. The tines snapped. Her nose wrinkled. “Great.”
“What’s great?”
She jumped. “Jordan! What are you doing here?”
“Getting a coffee. And letting you know he’s on his way,” he added in a lower voice, just as Lionel appeared.
“Ah, there you are.”
She didn’t bother to hide her sigh this time. Better that than the sarcastic “and there you are.” She’d uttered that once in the past, which Lionel seemed to have taken as some kind of flirty invitation. No way. Nuh-uh. He was the last man on earth to interest her. Even a childhood friend was a million times better than the man for whom HR seemed to stand for Highly Repellent. Not that she could afford to say that. She mightbe blessed enough to live rent-free in her elderly great-aunt’s harbour front flat, but she still needed to eat and pay the ferry fares, so she couldn’t afford to quit just yet.
“So, EJ, what are you doing in here?”
Wasn’t it obvious? She swallowed and straightened. “I’m just finishing my lunch, Lionel, as I’m entitled to, seeing that this is mylunch break.” She stared at him steadily, eyebrows raised slightly in the way she’d overheard him say before was intimidating.
He finally looked away, mumbling, “Uh, sure.”
Jordan’s arms crossed as he watched Lionel amble away. “You need to report him.”
“For what? Staring at me?”
“Making you uncomfortable,” Jordan said quietly.
Her skin prickled. It sometimes made her uncomfortable how well Jordan knew her, like he could almost read her mind.Couldhe read her mind? She sure couldn’t read his. His face might often be an open book, but even though they’d been friends forever, she still didn’t know what he thought sometimes. And lately it was getting more confusing. There’d been times recently when he’d looked at her in a way that if they hadn’t been such friends she’d start to wonder if he liked her or something. Which wasridiculous, but there, she’d said it. Or at least thought it. Which now made her triply uneasy in case he could read these thoughts too.
She plucked out the fork-resistant crouton and swallowed it, then winced as the dry bread scraped her throat, triggering a coughing fit.
“Here.” Jordan handed her a glass of water, which she drank, clearing out the crumbs.
“Thanks.” She placed the glass in the sink. She couldn’t look at him, knowing she’d see kindness, and possibly something else there too. Ugh.Thanks, Mum, for giving me that gene withan overactive romantic imagination.“Excuse me. I’d better get back to work.”
And she hurried away without a backward glance.
Jordan watched EJ leave, her new fancy haircut swinging sassily around her chin like nobody’s business. And while he knew it certainly wasn’t any of his business to be admiring his friend and coworker this way, these days it was like his brain had lost all capacity to tell his heart what to do.
He didn’t really know when it had happened, but somehow in the past few months he’d started noticing his childhood friend as something … more. More than just his childhood friend. More than as his coworker. More than simply his BFF. Which was unfortunate, as she seemed to have zero interest in returning the favour or showing any interest in him as a man. She seemed content to keep things at best friend status, which he supposed was something, at least. It wasn’t like her head had been turned by another man, so he figured his chances were as good as anyone’s.
Besides, he was a patient man. EJ had always bucked at being handled, manipulated, or controlled. She’d dig in her heels if she felt that way, stubbornness being one of those qualities that might be great for making apps a reality—but it had its downside too. And while EJ might generally prefer up-front honesty, he’d learned that sometimes she responded to a gentler suggestion, which was why Dream Match, EJ’s baby, now wore so many of his own fingerprints.
Emma-Jane Bennett had always owned a certain confidence, an attitude his father called brazen but his mother called vivacious. Probably because Mum had known Elizabeth Bennett for the past thirtysomething years, and together they hadraised their children in a small town and become solid friends with a history spanning decades. Just like he and EJ had, their history on display in photos while each inside their mum’s proud pregnant belly, to playgroup, school years, youth group, university courses, and now here, working at Donwell Enterprises.
“As different as night and day,” some people joked. Others said that Jordan was the brother EJ had never had, while yet others hinted that EJ and Jordan appeared a little too close. Which was crazy, but whatever. They’d never worried about that, as they just clicked. And as Jordan considered EJ his best friend, and she’d often said Jordan was her bestie, then it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. They both knew they’d always be each other’s best mate forever.
Until recently it seemed like they didn’t, and he was starting to wonder if she’d ever see him as something more.
