“The holidays are my busiest season and with the Rowan project, I’m even busier than usual,” I insist, becoming more adamant by the second.
“Isla.” Her tone brooks no argument. “You know the golden rule of dating.”
“Always have an escape plan?”
“Yes.” She laughs, but it fades quickly. “But the real golden rule is—we make time for the people we want to see. It’s the golden rule of life. We usually think we don’t have time, but you can always make time for something you want. Isn’t that true?”
She has me there. I make time for my friends, for my StairMaster, for face masks, for creating Christmas music playlists, for reading, for notebook shopping. “Yes,” I admit.
“If this guy’s so great, why aren’t you making time to date him?”
My stomach twists as I pass the Mistletoe Emporium where I check out the carved ornaments and handmade decor in the window, made by local artists, the sign says. It makes me think of that time at the Christmas tree farm with Rowan—when we talked about why we loved small towns and local businesses.
That’s it! He’s why I’m busy, of course. “I need to focus on Rowan while I’m here. My job is to find him a date,” I say in my best businesslike tone as I resume my pace, navigating my way through the throngs of Christmas shoppers on Main Street.
“Right. Sure.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“No. I think you’re feeling this way because you’re interested in your client.”
I nearly walk into a garland-wrapped streetlamp.
I mean, Iknowthat. But it’s another thing to hear someone else say it—especially when Mabel wasn’t even there when I recounted the kiss for Sabrina and Leighton at the kitten adoption event. “Why do you say that?”
“Because of the way you looked at him when he walked into your cookie swap,” Mabel answers.
She picked up on the attraction fromthat?“Fine, fine,” I concede. “Maybe my eyes were a little glued to him.”
“Oh, you eye-fucked him, friend. You eye-fucked himhard,” she says.
“Mabel!”
“Stop acting innocent. You know what you did.”
I sigh, annoyed, but mostly because I can’t deny she’s right. “Fine. But he’s hot. Do you blame me?”
“Of course not. Also, Sabrina and Leighton told me he kissed you under the mistletoe. It was like church tongue, they said.”
“Mabel! Why didn’t you just tell me you knew that then?”
She cracks up. “Because it was too fun to make you second-guess your ogling. But seriously—ogling plus church tongue equals hot for client.”
I grimace. This is bad. So bad. “But Ican’t. It’s such aterrible idea. For so many reasons.” I glance around, making sure no one’s in earshot, then duck down a side street, away from the crowd, pressing the phone even closer to my ear and covering my mouth with my hand. “It would look bad. The matchmaker falling for a client. Let alone one who’s completely emotionally unavailable.”
“But if he’s emotionally unavailable, nothing’s actually going to happen,” she reasons. “So what you’re worried about is public perception. And if he’s not emotionally available, you’re not actually going to date him for real, let alone fall for him. Right?”
“Exactly. Especially since he’s Jason’s client. He’s been with Jason for over ten years. They’re best friends. I don’t want things to be weird.For anyone.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds. “You sound like you’re trying to convince me.”
I wince. That means I’m probably trying to convince myself. I take a steadying breath. “I’m just saying there are lots of reasons why nothing can happen. No messing around. We’re merely practice-dating. We have a lesson tonight in fact.”
“That doesn’t sound tempting at all,” she deadpans.
“Iama dating coach!”
“To clients you crush on?”
