Mismatch by Tracie Delaney

Author:Tracie Delaney [Delaney, Tracie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-12-20T16:00:00+00:00

19

The following morning, Jayne gritted her teeth and picked up the phone to call Rupe. She owed it to him to make the first move, but as she dialled, heat rushed to her face as the memory of her dream came flooding back. But heat also rushed to her core as her mind picked over the vivid details of the dream.

“Good morning, Ms Seymour,” Rupe said when he answered the phone.

Jayne tried to pick up on his inflection, but his voice was calm, steady, and difficult to read.

“Hi. I wondered if you were free for breakfast this morning?”

A pause. “Like a date?”

She chuckled. “No. Like a planning session. Have you received the email yet about Julie Fisher? I meant to ask yesterday.”

“But you were too busy lying to yourself yesterday, weren’t you, Jayne?”

She sighed. “Let’s not do this.”

“No, let’s. Did you feel what I felt when I kissed you yesterday? Or was I imagining how perfectly we fit together? How kissing you felt like home, like where I’m supposed to be? If the kissing was that good, imagine the fucking, Jayne.”

Her face heated once more, and it had only just cooled down. Could the man see inside her head?

When she didn’t reply, Rupe let out a heavy breath. “Fine. Have it your way—for now. Yes, I got the email. Yes, we can meet for breakfast. I’ll meet you in the coffee shop across the road from your apartment in thirty minutes, give or take, depending on traffic.” He hung up without saying another word.

Jayne quickly dressed, put in a quick call to Darren to let him know she was meeting Rupe to discuss his case—not a complete lie—and stood by the window that overlooked the coffee shop. She spotted Rupe’s car drawing up and stopping at the kerb. He was back to the chauffeur-driven one again, probably for convenience since it was difficult to park outside her building during rush hour. She couldn’t help thinking that the limo didn’t really suit him. The convertible had been much more his style: a little clichéd but hugely endearing.

She slung her bag over her shoulder, grabbed her briefcase, and darted downstairs. Despite their argument the previous evening, her stomach fluttered with butterflies at the thought of seeing him again, which was ridiculous. She wasn’t sixteen and meeting her first crush. She was a grown woman—soon to be a divorcee—with a serious career. But something about Rupe made her feel skittish and ditsy.

She pushed open the door to the coffee shop and scanned the room. He was sitting at the back and had managed to grab a table by the window. He spotted her and beckoned her over. Jayne sidled past the line of people waiting for their morning caffeine fix and slipped into the chair opposite.

“I got you a latte,” Rupe said. “I wasn’t sure whether you wanted anything to eat.”

His polite manner set her teeth on edge, but she couldn’t exactly blame him. He had to be wary of her mixed signals by that point.

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