“Nope. Still here.” She gestured to the Monet painting on the wall, the print of the famous water lily scene the same as they’d always known, its beauty matched only by the fabulous view out the window.
“Well, I’m excited for you,” Liv said, as Elinor and Katie agreed.
Elinor might understand some of the complexity of what was involved, but EJ was fairly sure the others were simply being encouraging. Mum wasn’t being encouraging, and Dad still hadn’t appeared, which meant it felt like it was time to go, so she said her love-yous and goodbyes and ended the call.
She drew a blanket around her, tracing a finger over the photo frames of her eight sponsored kids, shooting up a prayer that God would keep them safe. Her nose wrinkled. Some might call her selfish, but more money meant more children who could be rescued from poverty, or women saved from sex slavery. It wasn’t just about designer clothes and shoes.
The view from the balcony beckoned, inviting her to linger, so she studied it as Charlie wove between her legs. Sydney’s Opera House would light up in mid-May for the Vivid festival, where buildings throughout Sydney’s historic Rocks region and the central business district would have images projected on them, drawing tourists from far away. The annual event had always made getting home from the office a challenge as workers battled the crowds in downtown and at Circular Quay.
Except this year she’d be here, in her aunt’s apartment, not needing to go to the office at all. Her lips lifted as a cool breezesnuck under the blanket and teased strands of her hair. Because maybe, finally, the next step of her dream would be coming true.
“So you’re serious? You’re finally going to bite the bullet?”
EJ nodded, her look shy, tentative, but Jordan recognised that glint that indicated determination.
“I’m so proud of you.” He grinned, drew close, and hugged her, wrapping her in a light brotherly squeeze as he’d done a million times before. Except this time she stiffened. Huh. So maybe this wasn’t like a million times before. He should probably hide the exuberance and not make this more awkward than it already was.
He backed off, patted her shoulders twice, like an aged uncle might when presented with a young child he didn’t know how to interact with. Yep. Way to go not making things awkward. “So, uh, when are you going to speak with Dean?”
“The email about our performance payouts said they’d happen this Thursday, so I’m hoping to talk to him on Friday.”
“As soon as the money is banked.”
She nodded.
His lips tweaked. “You know that as soon as you list Dream Match on the stock exchange it’s going to go gangbusters, and you’ll be making a ton of dough.”
“That’s what Maurice said.” Her eyes gleamed.
Maurice, the card shark of a lawyer who EJ trusted implicitly. She might be savvy in nearly all things business, but she seemed to have a blind spot where that man was concerned. Jordan still wasn’t too sure about it, because as soon as it was publicly listed, it would get increasingly hard to keep their Christian values central, given they’d need to listen to investor concerns. And while he’d mentioned this before, it was her baby.
“But I like certainties in life, not maybes.”
“Except we don’t get a lot of certainties in life,” he said gently. “Except death and taxes.”
“And hard work and its reward,” she shot back.
“But even hard work doesn’t always reap the rewards we might want,” he cautioned.
“Comeon, Jordan. You know this is what I’ve dreamed of, what we’ve both worked so hard towards. It’s not wrong to want to be successful. Why are you being so negative?”
Disappointment slid inside. He didn’t like to admit it, but his best friend’s Achilles’ heel was her fixation on money and status. Sometimes it seemed like seeing Dream Match succeed was more her god than Jesus.
“I’m not being negative,” he explained. “I’m just wanting to make sure you keep the main thing the main thing. Remember why you started this thing in the first place?”
She sighed. “To help Christian singles find their ideal partner without all the yucky stuff of other dating apps.”
That slogan had helped them find those first brave investors before she and Jordan realised they needed to spruce up their marketing and assume a more professional presentation to get the next round of investors to believe with them.
“EJ, I’ve been with you in this since the beginning. You know I’m on your side. But I wouldn’t be a friend if I didn’t tell you to be careful not to hold this too tightly. God is still in control, isn’t He?”
But from the way she looked at him, the mutinous tilt to her chin that he’d also seen a million times before, uncertainty streaked through him about just what she did believe these days. Just what was Maurice filling her mind with?
“Isn’t He?” he prompted again when she still didn’t return an answer.
“Yes,” she finally muttered.
Hmm. That didn’t sound like she truly agreed. And while he knew EJ had workaholic tendencies, he knew his duty as a friend meant that he needed to speak up when things didn’t seem right.
