“Oh, but this is good. He wants to have coffee with me.”
“What?” Breath stalled. An arrow to the heart couldn’t pierce harder.
“Not likethat.No, Eric actually said he wants to have coffee with both of us.”
“Really?” The bands around his chest eased. “Why?”
She explained about Eric saying he was interested in further discussing the app, and that it would be good to have all the interested parties involved. “So I thought you should definitely be there. And Maurice, and Harriet too.”
“And he’s okay with that?”
“Yes. He’s the one who suggested it.”
Huh. Well, that was unexpected. The wind felt like it had been taken out of the sails of his offence. “When?”
“Well, when are you free?”
He scoffed. “You don’t seriously think one of the richest men in Australia is waiting to find out when I’m free?”
“Actually … that’s exactly what he implied, so I’m running with it.”
“EJ, I don’t think he was serious.”
“I think he was. And anyway, I don’t think we need to worry too much. If he doesn’t want to, that’s fine. We’ll find someone else who’s interested.”
Jordan frowned. It sounded too good to be true.Lord?But any effort to hear what God might be saying was shrouded by his heart’s consternation.
Because while he was glad for EJ’s sake that Eric seemed to be a genuinely interested party, he couldn’t help wonder just what else Eric might be interested in.
The month of May wasn’t known for the rich blue skies that appeared on a thousand postcards displaying Sydney’s charms. But today’s skies held that cerulean depth that sparkled across the harbour, layering warmth across the chilly breeze on this autumn day.
It felt like a good day, a good day to be alive. A day when anything was possible. EJ watched the water surge against the side of the ferry as she crossed the harbour, her thoughts flicking back to yesterday’s online meeting with Harriet, Maurice, and Jordan, where they’d run through a game plan before today’s coffee conversation with Eric and Geoff, his financial adviser.
It had taken a real miracle to get the six of them to find the time to meet. But there was nothing more motivating than knowing that millions of dollars might be on the line. So Maurice had rescheduled appointments, and Jordan had taken time off work, and they had all negotiated and renegotiated and rescheduled times with Eric until they had finally pinned down a day to make this happen. And in just a few hours, they would finally be doing this.
EJ was the key presenter, Maurice would talk specifics about money and legalities, Harriet was working on the presentations, and Jordan was helping to keep things grounded about why Dream Match needed to stay true to its roots. They’d discussedand planned, and she now felt confident that they had a solid proposal.
She had felt confident, anyway, until she’d received a phone call and message this morning. First Harriet, who’d apologised as her dog needed emergency surgery, so she couldn’t come into Sydney today. “But I’ve emailed through to you the latest version of the prospectus,” she explained.
“Okay.”
Then Maurice had contacted her—his wife’s asthma attack meant he was in hospital with her and couldn’t come in either. “But it’s okay. You’ve got Jordan, right? He knows this stuff as well, so you’ll still have someone to be there.”
“Sure. Tell Rose we’re praying for her,” to which he’d thanked EJ, then ended the call.
So, it was back to the original duo, she and Jordan. Out to do what they could to make a difference in the world. Make a difference for Christian singles via Dream Match. Make money so they could make a difference for orphans and those trapped by poverty. To help others and be a blessing. She drew in a salt-tinged breath and exhaled. They just had to keep the main thing the main thing.
The ferry slowly drew in to Circular Quay, then nudged the wharf. She waited for the initial rush of passengers to depart, happy to hang back until most of them had gone. She didn’t want to lose her way in the crowd. Jordan was supposed to pick her up at The Rocks, and then they’d drive to Sydney’s expensive eastern suburbs where they’d meet Eric and Geoff. Apparently Eric lived at Dover Heights, just north of Bondi’s famous beach, and while she was curious to know exactly where Eric lived, she wasn’t about to encourage anything like that. But still. It would be nice to see how the really rich people of the world lived.
She reached the lawn between Circular Quay and the Museum of Contemporary Art and waited, but she couldn’t see Jordananywhere. Of course, parking in this section of Sydney was a nightmare, so maybe he was having trouble finding a parking spot.
Her phone started vibrating, and she hooked it out from her handbag, her heart sinking at the name. She answered. “Don’t tell me you’re not coming either.”
“Huh? Why, who else isn’t going to be there?” Jordan asked.
“It’s only me. Everyone else has piked.”
He coughed. “I’m not piking. I just feel a little crook. I keep getting these dizzy spells, and I don’t think you’re gonna want my company today.”
