Huh. Maybe he hadn’t given her as much credit as he should have.
EJ bit her lip, her gaze skittish, not settling on him or anywhere else for too long.
“What?”
She sighed. “I don’t know what to do. I thought maybe I could get him interested in investing in the app, but he ignored that. Now I feel like if I ignore him, who knows what will happen? He’s powerful, Jordan. He’s got connections.”
Just like the mob boss he’d warned her about before.
“He could hurt the app’s chances of development.”
“Right now I’m more concerned about his chances of hurting you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, as their coffees and bacon-and-egg rolls were placed on the table.
“Thanks.” He waited until the server had gone, then faced EJ again. “Well, let’s face it. I’ve seen pictures of the kind of women he’s dated in the past. And you’re not exactly like them.”
Her face shadowed. “Thank you. I’m aware I’m not a blonde model type.”
“I don’t mean to say you’re ugly—”
Her mouth dropped.
“Wait! I’m not saying that at all!” Talk about foot in mouth. He’d just eaten a whole shoe store. “EJ, you’re really pretty.” A complete understatement—she was beautiful. The look she shot him said he needed to try a lot harder. “Look, I’m just saying that you’re not a model, you’re a supersmart tech geek who happens to be attractive. You’re just not the usual type of arm candy he’s been seen with.”
She ate a big bite of her bacon-and-egg roll, some of the fried egg dripping out to slide down her chin in a yellow mess. She quickly wiped it off with a paper napkin. “I don’t think I want to talk about this with you anymore.”
“EJ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t.” She shook her head, straining to swallow the last bite. Then she swigged the last of her coffee, wadded up the paper napkin, and put the rubbish in the now-empty cup.
She picked up her phone, then shoved it at him. “See this? I’m going to block his number.” She put action to her words and did that. Then deleted the text. “Happy now?”
It was clear she wasn’t. “EJ, I really didn’t mean to say—”
“I truly do not want to talk about it anymore.” She rose, snatched up her water bottle, swigged it. “So, I’ve gotta go. I’m going to see Aunty Marion, and I’ve got other stuff to do.”
His heart hurt. Yeah, he bet she had stuff to do, anywhere away from him. “Are you still coming down this weekend?”
“Down? Oh, Wattle Vale. No, I don’t think so.” Her face slipped into false happiness. “But you have fun. Tell your mum happy birthday from me.”
“I will.”
She nodded, paced away, and he rushed to stand. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. This morning’s breakfast was supposed to have been a chance for them to reconnect, to maybe see if he could take her out for a meal tonight, not for him to let his stupid jealousy chase her away. “EJ—”
“Well, thanks for brekkie.” More artificial brightness. “I’d better go.”
“Hey.” Before she could turn and run, he hurried to her and wrapped her in a hug. She squeaked in protest, but soon the tight shoulders eased, and she relaxed. “I’m sorry for upsetting you. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t think you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “I do.”
“It’s okay. You don’t need to lie. I know I’m not.”
She wiggled, and he instantly released her, not wanting to add to the awkwardness between them. But constant reassurance didn’t seem to help, and he was only too aware who had created most of the awkwardness between them. The man with the big mouth.
“Have fun with your family,” she said. Then, without another word, she lifted a hand and ran away.
Leaving him to wish he knew a way to solve things. And wishing that Eric Churchill would have the sense to stay away.
Her Saturday, which had begun so poorly, seemed a predictor for the rest of the day. People who refused to be contacted. Marketing budgets that refused to add up. Aunty Marion was sick and unable to have visitors. Even Harriet was proving hard to reach, finally texting back to say she was with Martin Roberts on a bushwalk to Pigeon House Mountain—like EJ knew who he was or where that was—and would be out of mobile phone coverage for most of the day. Humph. She rolled her eyes atherself. Way to go with the assistant who believed in having time off on the weekends.
